


Oh, What A Journey You've Had.

by OrchidPeach560 (Miss_Webb)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Inhumans (Marvel), Other, Running Away, Written in third person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-01-16 02:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12333762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Webb/pseuds/OrchidPeach560
Summary: You, a girl who’s hidden her name and identity for so long even she doesn’t remember who that person is anymore. Bruce Banner, a man with a side of himself that he hates yet can’t get rid of.Running.Hiding.Trying to survive in a very cruel dangerous world.They meet, fall in love, and have things they both thought they’d never get a chance to have.





	1. Fiji

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something starting for my appreciation and lack of fics for Bruce banner/Mark Ruffalo. I hope all the other ruffalo fans enjoy this as well.

 

Chapter 1: Fiji

 

Coughing, that was the first thing that came to him when he gained consciousness. He couldn’t breathe for a solid minute there. It was exhaustion, water, and the bitter taste of salt. There was also an incredible amount of exhaustion. Once air came back to his lungs, he just laid there in the wet sand, sinking every time the water come back up washing him in a wave of cold. It wasn’t too bad, the sun was directly on him, and warmed him quickly.

Back and forth, hot and cold, over and over. Eventually he got the strength to move. So he stood and progressed away from the water. He observed his surroundings as he dried his pants. Not a single person was around, that was good. He didn’t want the world alerted to the hulk making an appearance in...? He wasn’t exactly sure where he was, he knew he swam here, nothing else really. The green guy was acting on instinct. Which was actually good for once; he would probably never would have been able to make that move to leave everyone, to leave her.

He cared about Natasha, he would love to be with her, but it wasn’t what was right for him, not anymore. He was tired of being in the spotlight, tired of saving the world. Whenever he helps, he ends up hurting. It’s simply the fact that he becomes a different person. The person the avengers want is the green guy, the incredible hulk.

Bruce hated that person, it was a mistake, a mistake he lived with, a mistake he watched the aftermath for constantly. It was time to leave, for good. Natasha… she would always look back. She has a past, one of wrong. Wrongs she’s done and wrongs done to her. He can see it now. She’s not just fighting for the world, but for herself. To make it up, to make it worth it.

That’s a journey she will have to take without him. The world is constantly in danger, aliens, wars, drunk drivers, global warming, cancer. He’d rather be helping as Doctor Robert Bruce Banner. Not the Hulk.

So that’s the plan. Save lives that way. But for a while he would need to lay low, in case they tried to find him. It’s how they got him before. His need to help. All they need to do is look for unknown named doctors and small towns, poor areas, and low funded clinics. For now, he would roam, find a place, then find a way to stay under the radar and help.

First thing first. Get some clothes.

 

-Rebecca-

Traveling might be fun for some, but not for Rebecca. Ugh, Rebecca. She wasn’t used to the name yet. It’s an alias, but it’s a good one. She’d been memorizing the past, she wrote it all out on a paper, and it’s tucked safely in her bag. Rebecca Johnson, 23, two sisters who are in the military, parents deceased, had a dog when she was six that died when she was seven. Now all she needed was someone to make a fake ID for her. Or at least a passport. That was better for traveling. That way she wouldn’t have to pay so much money for someone to take her illegally. 

Rebecca was just stepping off the boat when the man demanded his payment. She sighed, used to it by now. People aren’t exactly chipper when they are in the midst of a crime, and she’s basically a walking one. After he left, she made away from civilization. Too many tourists in this part of Fiji. Its where the ships dock and people walk straight to the hotels and casinos. Everyone’s got cameras and phones out, even the little kids.

That’s one too many opportunities for her to be caught in the back of someone’s photo and it getting uploaded online. Who knows how long it would take them to find her after that?

Either way, it’s not like she would fit in or blend in. She stinks. It’s been about a week since she’s had access to a shower, and deodorant isn’t something she has the money to waste buying. Usually she can get away with crushing up chalk and substituting. But at this point she’d be wasting it, it’s too far gone. After night fall she’ll sneak into a public restroom and wash up with hand soap.

Not that she’d be doing it for herself. After this long on the run, she’s used to stinking. She rarely gets itchy, and it’d take a butchers knife to get the corns and dead skin off her feet. On the plus side to all of this, she’s lost weight. To think, she used to think getting under that two hundred mark was impossible. Not that she’s even had access to a scale in the last five years, but considering it’s been two days since she last ate, and it’s a normal feeling, she’s sure she’s well below it.

She searches for a spot to sit in the shade. Just by the forest on the edge, where the sand meets dirt is where she decides to seat. Its right up against a tree so she can lean and still sit upright.

_Rebecca, Rebecca, Rebecca._

She says it over and over again in mantras, as if Rebecca Johnson will actually become her life if she treats it like Beetlejuice, or bloody Mary. She doesn’t even look like a Rebecca. But then again, she doesn’t even look like herself anymore, so what’s the difference? She counted the rest of her money as she sat.

Six hundred- thirty-two dollars, and seventy-six cents.

It’s alright, but she will need to get some kind of income if she’s going to be staying. Food cost’s here. The water probably too. Besides this would buy her like one night at any hotel around. She couldn’t afford somewhere to stay and too eat.

Not to mention she likes to have money in case she needs to suddenly run. Tonight she was going to be fine, it’s an issue for her to solve tomorrow.

 

-Bruce-

Finding clothes was a lot easier than Bruce thought it was going to be. He blended in, missing his shirt over fifty-percent of the people were wearing bathing suits. He was the only one forced to hold up his pants but not many noticed. Once he was in a hotel he looked around, for a bathroom, or somewhere he could be alone and take a chance to figure things out. Luckily the room he snuck into seemed to be the lost and found. Yes, the room was for lost and found items. He didn’t know Fiji was so popular that this many clothing items were forgotten and left behind. It was like he was shopping, and he was able to find his size in everything, even a pair of shoes. Pretty lucky, and he snagged himself a pair of sunglasses.

Finders keepers, and losers have no idea what they are missing.

Win-barely lose type of situation. He liked it.

Next up, somewhere to stay, he needed to lay low, but sustain himself. Actually scratch that, he couldn’t get anywhere to stay without a fake identity. Usually he lived in places without any kind of enforcement. It’s dangerous in those areas, but we all know he can handle himself.

Maybe he could make one himself. All that time working with Stark, fake identity is nothing compared to creating a murder bot or any of the other hundreds of things they’ve done together. He needed to get his hands on a computer, and a high definition photo printer…

 

-Rebecca-

She’d begun to doze off against the tree when she felt it under her foot. Something under the sand began to move and shift, so she pulled her leg back quickly and watch confusingly. When a tiny little turtle head popped out under the sand she smiled. It waddled through the sand with it’s cute arms and legs. More and more followed, slowly, some in bunch, some alone, but they all headed to the same place. She followed a few, keeping the birds from swooping down and taking them. She didn’t dare pick any of them up or touch them.

She was content just watching them make their way. It made her day, hell, it made her year. After the last fish got picked up by the wave, she turned back to her spot looking around. The sun had gone down some everything was mostly shaded, and the winds picked up. She decided it was just as good a time as any to eat. No need to wait really. She went up to the closest restaurant and took a look at a menu. She got fries and a burger. It was the cheapest thing on the menu, and it’s been a while since she’s had anything with beef in it.

She paid her six dollars, and eighteen cents, and got a white cardboard box with her hot food inside. Thankfully, she also got a free water. She hated drinking out of those stupid fountains. Half of the time the water wasn’t even cold, and there was always someone’s gum stuck somewhere on it. She took a seat way in the back, covered by the wall, and quickly ate. Fries first, then the burger. She smiled on her first bite. God she missed pickles. One of the best perks of starving, is when you do eat, even a little you feel absolutely stuffed. So that would hold her until tomorrow.

She folded up the cardboard box and stuck it in her bag, and threw away her napkins and paper.  After she went into the bathroom, and quickly wet some towels and washed up under her armpits, behind her neck, ears, and then got a new one and washed her face.

She exited the restaurant pretty quickly after that. She didn’t much like people, it may be paranoia, or PTSD. But she didn’t trust people. Too many unknown variables, too many lies, too many choices. She used to trust, but that was betrayed, which lead to this five-year adventure of running for her life.

By now things should have calmed down. Maybe she’s safe, maybe they’ve stopped looking. But she couldn’t risk it. It was too much risk, what happened was horrible, and she wouldn’t be able to survive anymore of it.

The breeze was lovely, yet cold. It was a good change from the warm day. Rebecca grew tired of the heat. Maybe the next time she moved she would go somewhere up north. Somewhere with lots of snow. It’s been a long time since she’s seen decent snow. She doesn’t risk going to the far northern areas unless she has enough money to guaranty her shelter, sleeping outside in the cold, is not fun. Not at all.

She sat back in her spot against the tree and quickly fell asleep.

 

-Bruce-

Money was not an issue, he had plenty he was getting a regular salary working for Stark Industries. No doubt it was canceled, but the money would still be in the account. The account was the issue. If he accessed it in Fiji, they would look for him in Fiji. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe they’d respect his decision, apparently they had before, letting him live life where he wanted to. But they came for him when something big happened, and he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to be first responder; he doesn’t want to be The Hulk. He wants to be him. In all cases. For as long as the hulk is a part of him, that is destructive and something he can’t control. Robert Bruce Banner does not want to be him.

After several hours of debating, he decided that he wasn’t going to open his account. Once that trail of following starts, he won’t know when it will end. Maybe he will clear it out the day he leaves and move on from there.

But for as long as he stays in Fiji, he was going to have to find his own way.


	2. Fish

Chapter 2: Fish

Bruce ended up sleeping on a beach chair. Which was very uncomfortable. Who decided plastic was a good idea for a chair? Plastic bars no less. It left indents in his skin where they laid, it felt painful, and looked ridiculous. Not to mention the heat and sweat making his skin stick to the seats.

Suffice to say, he’s glad to be awake and stretching. It’s hot, the sun’s a little blinding, and just a bit humid. Only thing saving it from being unbearable are the cool winds whipping droplets of water around. He toes his shoe on and heads for the resorts and hotels. Applying for a job is best, before he starts getting hungry and is tempted to access his account.

It wasn’t going to be hard. He’s done it before. Getting a job while hiding an identity isn’t hard once you’ve gotten the hang of it. There’s always a job somewhere, you just need to find the one that doesn’t make you jump all the legal hoops.

-Rebecca-           

Rebecca woke with a crick in her neck, but she worked it right out. She dusted the sand off her clothes and out of her hair. It’d already gotten sticky hot and she would love to go inside somewhere with air conditioning. So when she’s done dusting off the sand, she walks into the closest hotel.

It’s complete chaos. Hundreds of people, walking in and out of elevators, halls, and rooms. Staff pushing around luggage. It must be checkout time or something. Some way or another someone is always touching Rebecca. Bumping, rubbing against, or sitting too close. She feels claustrophobic. It’s almost worse than being outside. Not to mention the cameras everywhere. But that’s not much of a worry, she keeps her head down and follows the tide wave of people and flows with them. It’d be hard to track her in here, that’s even if someone bothered to check the camera feed for her. Which they shouldn’t, it’s safe here, she’s only just arrived. All she needs to do, is keep her head down.

Simple.

Somehow she ends up further back in the hotel. It’s still the first floor, and she honestly was just roaming, trying to make it look like she had somewhere to be rather than just loitering around. She’s back further by the kitchens, she can smell heavy amounts of food being cooked, it’s nice, and bad at the same time. It makes her mouth water, but she can’t exactly just waste money on food at the moment.

“You!” Someone yells from behind. She freezes for a moment, hoping they aren’t talking to her. Sadly, she’s the only one in the hallway. She turns around slowly, keeping her head down but gaze up. Her grip on her bag tightens in case she needs to run. She’s ready.

“Yeah?” She asks.

“Why are you back here? Are you looking for a job like everyone else? I said orientation is tomorrow. Why doesn’t anyone listen. Did you even read the flyer?”

It’s a lot of information in a short period and she’s trying to think quick, but this man talks a mile a minute.

“Uh, sorry, I lost mine?” She doesn’t want to stick out. Whoever he thinks she is, she’s willing to be for the moment.

He rolls his eyes so hard  _her_  head hurts, and reaches in his bag. Rebecca stiffens, her leg jerks, the fear of a gun being pulled this close to her, rushes through her veins and her legs are basically about to move on their own.

“Here, take this, and actually read it! If I have to tell one more person how to read, I swear I’m quitting.” He hands her a flyer, it’s bright green, and she kind of hates it. But once it’s in her hands, the man is storming off. She feels like she can finally breathe again and relaxes. She quickly exits the hall before she draws more unwanted attention.

Once she’s back in the lobby, she actually takes a moment to read it.

**HELP WANTED!**

**Full time, Part Time, Flexible hours**

**Fish prep**

**Gutting**

**Scaling**

**Cleaning**

**Live in hotel optional included for FULL TIME only.**

Rebecca didn’t know the first thing about gutting fish, but live in sounded pretty nice, rather than sleeping in the sand. Besides she needed money anyway. At the bottom it had date and time listed for orientation. Something odd though was that it didn’t ask for a resume, or for someone to bring and I.D. Which means she knows what kind of job this is. Either way, she plans to at the very least check it out.

She memorizes the time and place, and leaves the flyer there on the table and heads outside to get some fresh air and away from all these people.

-

Bruce

Bruce was not planning on sleeping on another one of those death traps they call chairs; he’d rather sleep on the ground if it came to that. He walked inside one of the resort hotels and look around again. He sat down on one of the sofas in the lobby and relaxed. Out of the burning sun and into sweet air conditioning.

He wishes he could sleep here, on this couch at night, but the staff would never allow that, he knows that much.

Something green caught Bruce’s attention from the corner of his eye. It was a piece of paper. He picked up the neon colored flyer to the side and read it curiously. It was something about a job.  _Rather convenient_. He chuckled to himself silently. He looked at it thoroughly for a catch but couldn’t find one. Apparently orientations were tomorrow, yet nothing said anything about resume or a number needed to call in advance. It is a walk in sort of job? Sounds like a less than legit form of hiring, once again, conveniently what he was looking for. It wouldn’t hurt to go tomorrow, and if it didn’t work out then maybe he’d just move on. Catch a boat and move onto somewhere less stuffed to the brim with people.

But no helping.

He needs to blend, and do things he wouldn’t do for now.

Like gutting fish apparently. He folds up the paper and stuffs it into his pocket for later. Then he looks around trying to figure out how to get some food around here without money.

           -

           Rebecca

           Rebecca decided she wasn’t going to eat today. It was a silent and quick decision. The money situation was tight and if this job thing worked out then she’d be fine. Until then she could wait. It was just one day. There’s been multiple times where she’s gone a week without food, one day is fine, it’s always better to save where she can. She scrounges around the rest of the day, looking for seashells. It’s actually fun. Not having to worry, even if it’s only for a day, it’s really relaxing. It’s been awhile since she’s just had pure fun. She’s almost scared to let it happen for fear of it all being ruined. But collecting shells is harmless.

           -

           Both Bruce and Rebecca had uneventful evenings, with no one to talk to and no real purpose, they kept to themselves, keeping out of trouble and out of the way of people. That night they both slept in the same places as they did the day before. Bruce eyes the beach chair irritated before he sleeps on it.

            _One more day_. He told himself, and it was fine. Well, fine meaning painful and sticky hot. But hopefully it’s the last time he has to sleep on one, or he’ll just sleep somewhere off in the sand. The job’s orientation started at noon.

Rebecca woke up with the sun as it laid down on her with its rise. She uses the time to wash up in the bathroom again and change clothes.

Bruce goes into the building, and waits in a chair next to the hallway designated them on the flyer. There are a few others there that seem to be waiting as well. They carry no important looking files or cards. Some of them have nothing but the clothes on their backs. It makes him feel better about his chances for this job.

           Rebecca comes into the building exactly at twelve and there’s a group of people all lining up down the hall, it’s easy to slip in behind them and listen. The man that yelled at Rebecca in the hall yesterday was the one standing in front and speaking.

“Okay everyone, I’m going to make this quick, so please listen, if you have questions wait until the end, I hate being interrupted. It’s noon so let’s begin. This is the door that separates the employee rooms from the main halls. It’s in this area on every level. Kitchen staffers always are on the first floor, so are the gutters and fishers. Maids, cleaners and so on are on the upper floors. Cleaning service will not come to your rooms, you will need to call for them. The only times you may are, two hours after checkout and check in times.” He begins walking down the hall, and they all follow.

“This is the door to the kitchen, you walk though, grab and apron, and keep moving, don’t get in anyone’s way, cooking is hella crazy and busy at all times of day, you could cause an accident. You will walk straight back here.” He leads them.

“This is where the schedule is, it’s posted here once a week. If you cannot work for a day or so, then you  _must_  have someone replace you. The staff is short as is, we don’t need bailers. You also know, any day you do not work you don’t get paid. I don’t care your reasons don’t bother me with it.” He walks out through the back doors to the outside, it’s like a patio, but really just a cement flooring, and a thin cover at the top for shade.

“For those that chose the job, this is where you will gut and clean the fish. I don’t really know how all of that works, you will have someone here to train you all when you pick. Your positions will vary. If you decide you are really good at one of the stations, then you can request to be there most of your shifts. Like I said, we are short. If you are good at something, then do it. Moving on.” He walked back by the further tables. “Cleaning is someone else’s job, the entire place gets hosed down then sanitized. We do this outside just to lessen the smell. However, it is your job to throw entrails and extra parts of fish into the proper bins, something about waste and grey water, yada, yada. It is imperative, no matter how hard you are working: Once a fish is outside of ice, you get it done as quickly as possible. Fish rot fast! I will say it again, fish rot fast! It may not happen right in front of your eyes. But the longer you take, the longer it’s going to be in the sun, drying, skin peeling. Everyone else has to do their job. If you can only do one fish every ten minutes do not have fish laying on the counter while you work on the one.” He takes a step and stops. “If you take longer than ten minutes for one fish at your station you won’t last long here, that’s a promise. The buckets are placed here after every cleaning, you need to grab one for yourself every day and place it next to you, that bucket is your responsibility until your shift is over. Do not dump it anywhere, do not mix it with other trash, it is important about how it’s handled.”

“This is where the knives and other tools are kept. It’s locked at ten-thirty every night, and opened at four-thirty every morning. If a knife comes up short, the cost will be evenly taken from all of your pays. If you see someone leave something, for Christ sake pick it up. We don’t do blame games, you’re a team, if one fails you all fail. That said, if you still want a job, sign-up sheet is over there at the table. They need your name, and a picture for photo ID’s, then they will give you a room card if you are full time and want live in. The instruction on how to deal with fish will be through that door in an hour, if you don’t make it then you will not have a job. That’s it for now. Anyone interested in cleaning, or actual cooking jobs follow me.” He pushes another door open and the crowd splits in half. One half leaving the other heading for the table. Rebecca being behind the group ended up making her closest to the table, so she was the first to step up. The lady there smiled up at her, her name tag said Janet, in mixed capitalized tilted sticker letters.

“Hello, what form do you need? Full time or part time?”

“Uh, full time.”

“Okay…” She looked through the stacked and handed her a paper from the left. “Just filled that all out then I can get you a room setup.”

Rebecca smiles and grabs a stray pen from the table, and someone else took her place in line. The top asked name, and date of birth, then there was a line for signature and a waver warning about injuries and so on. It was easy enough to fill out, only took about two minutes, and she walked back over to the lady.

“All done?” Janet asked handing another form over to someone.

“Yes.”

“Now all we need to add is a photo.” Rebecca stilled at that. The next person came up getting a file, and she fidgeted with her nails.

“The photo… that doesn’t go online or anything does it?”

“Nope, not for the staff, we just pop ‘em in the file in case something goes wrong, like someone goes missing or something gets stolen. Straight from the camera to the printer to the folder.”

It was worth it. That’s what she said to herself over and over, even if it was only to get a room, and feel like an actual person for just one day she would take that goddamned picture.

“Okay.” She nods, and Janet points over to a man standing by a camera.

“He’s the one to see, he’ll take a snapshot and send you back here for a room. It’s all really quick, she walks over, he tells her to stand up straight, there’s a flash, and the printer next to him is already making a whirring sound and there her face is. Physical proof she was in the building. It’s almost hard to watch the man slide it over to the table.  

-

She was excited to find her room and check it out. From the hallway you could tell it was a low quality part of the hotel, but she wasn’t interested in luxury, she was interested in privacy and a warm bed and shower.

First floor, room twenty-four, she slid the key card, and smiled at the sound of a beep and the green light flashing. The first smell she caught was of lavender carpet powder, the room was so clean. The carpet was fluffy, and her feet sunk into it a little with every step. The bed had a comforter, a loose sheet and a fitted. Which was normal, but not to someone used to sleeping outside. She couldn’t remember the last time she actually even touched a comforter or an actual blanket. It was tempting to just jump in it, but her pants and shoes were covered in sand, dirt, and other substances she didn’t even really know about.

Going into the shower was something she didn’t even have to think about, she threw her clothes to the floor, and immediately turned the water on. She stepped in without caring the water was still cold.

She stood face directly in the spray, taking in the feeling of it slowly warming up on her skin. It was so relaxing not having to wash up at a rest stop, or an outdoor beach shower. It was just her, in the safety of a locked door, in her own room. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt such a sense of privacy, or safety. After about ten minutes she realized the small soaps and shampoos in the corner of the tub. Another thing she hasn’t had; she’s been washing her hair with hand soap she gets from public restrooms. Honestly she liked it, because they tended to smell good anyway. But, actual shampoo and conditioner, her hair would finally stop breaking off every time she ran her hands through it.

She was losing her sense of time and she quickly washed and stepped out of the shower. Knowing she could come back and do it all again after this second orientation was the only thing helping her leave.

-

The second orientation was more eventful than the first. The instructor actually seemed to care about his job this time, and didn’t have an attitude. He spent a lot of time explaining exactly what each station was for, and what was expected of that station. He explained what each kind of knife was for and where they were supposed to go when done using them. It all didn’t seem too hard. One or two terms slipped past Rebecca in understanding, but once she saw how it was done it was good. He pulled out a fish, and told everyone to gather around while he showed what each step looked like. It was gross, and the fish smelled like… well it smelled like a raw cut open fish.

All she had to think about was that bed, and that shower. With that on her mind there was nothing she wasn’t willing to do.


End file.
